


Deepening

by Yuo



Series: Ties That Bind [3]
Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuo/pseuds/Yuo
Summary: Frieda and Carol's relationship grows stronger.





	Deepening

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 3 in my young Carol x Frieda series. I strongly recommend reading the other two parts first for context. 
> 
> Unless you're just here for the smut. Then have fun.

Frieda was a person of rigid routine and planning, which was, as Carol saw it, a terrible weakness in prison. Once it became easily known where one would be at any given time, it left one terribly vulnerable to attacks. If you were somewhere alone, or distracted, or easily trapped, your adversary would know, much as Carol did now. She marched stiffly down the hallway, preparing herself to face Frieda. 

 

She rounded the corner to the nearly vacant showers, as she knew Frieda would be alone, enjoying having the place all to herself. A privilege, Carol would have you reminded, that  _ she  _ bestowed upon the more fortunate of her followers. She grinned like a hyena as she spotted Frieda in the farthest stall, washing her hair. 

 

Keeping her footsteps quiet so Frieda wouldn’t turn and notice her, Carol couldn’t forego the opportunity to see her nude. Her eyes widened as she raked in Frieda’s soft curves, admiring the way her back arched as she wrung out her hair, an arm of her octopus tattoo barely visible from-

 

“What the fuck, Carol?” demanded Frieda, turning around. 

 

“Don’t be such a prude,” Carol shrugged, “my glasses are too steamed up for me to see anything anyways.” She giggled, stepping closer. Frieda impulsively moved for her cosmetic bag, where she likely had her weapon stashed. “Relax.” Carol held up her hands in mock surrender. “I just want to talk, okay?”

 

Frieda scowled, shutting off the water and wrapping herself in a towel. “What’s there to talk about? I said I’m done with you.” 

 

Genuine hurt, far from the fake pouting she usually invoked to get her way, registered across Carol’s face. “Frieda,” she said, her voice quiet and wavering. 

 

“What? You have something to tell me?”   
  


She took a deep breath. “No one’s ever touched me like that before, and I-”

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Frieda rolled her eyes.

 

“No, Frieda, listen! No one’s ever wanted to be close to me like that. Ever. And I just - why are you being so cruel?”

 

Frieda felt an unexpected rush of sympathy for the younger girl. “You really don’t know? What you are, what you do… you just take. And take. And take. And when people start to hate you for it, you act like nothing ever happened.” 

 

Carol bit her lip, pondering the harsh truth. Anger welled up in her at being spoken to so harshly, but it was softened by her deepening attraction to the woman. “I-” somehow, she knew she had to apologize to Frieda if she ever wanted things to be mended. “I’m sorry,” she admitted. 

 

Frieda looked taken aback. She had learned long ago to stop expecting Carol to ever gain some self awareness or humility. 

 

“I’m sorry, okay?” continued Carol. “I want you. I  _ need  _ you. And you can have more input on the decisions, if that’s what you want. But please don’t just…  _ throw me away. _ ” She looked up at Frieda with large, nervous eyes, begging for a response. 

 

For a moment, Frieda saw Carol for who she really was. A hurt, rejected little girl. All her rage and all her mania were merely layers meant to conceal, to divert from the truth. She felt a disconcerting urge to embrace Carol, to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be alright. 

 

Of course, she did none of these things, instead folding her arms and regarding Carol sternly. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” asked Carol, voice tight with anticipation. 

 

“Okay, you can keep using my spot. But you can’t order me around. And you have to pick up your shit. No more trashing the place.” Carol’s eyebrows knit as she turned the answer over in her mind. 

 

“We’d be partners.”

 

“Partners,” confirmed Frieda. 

 

“What about the other thing?” Carol’s eyes searched Frieda’s face for some sign of understanding. She rolled her eyes. “You gonna make me fuckin’ say it again? I want you.”

 

“You don’t want to be business partners. You want to be my girlfriend.”

 

“I want to kiss you,” corrected Carol. 

 

Frieda considered that for a moment. A spark in her eyes, she stepped forward, pulling Carol close and kissing her firmly. The younger girl was enthusiastic, if slightly inexperienced, kisser, and Frieda pulled away only when she felt her grasp at the hem of her towel. “It’s almost time for count,” said Frieda, ducking back into the stall to quickly pull on her uniform, away from Carol’s greedy eyes. 

 

\--------

 

The events of the evening played over in Frieda’s mind as she drifted off to sleep. A feeling of unease plagued her, but try as she might she couldn’t locate its source. Having more influence in Carol’s decisions would surely be an advantage, as would her influence over the woman if their relationship progressed deeper. 

 

But something about the Little Debbie Killer was deeply off putting. Carol was like fire - whether you had a word for it or not, every human and animal knew to keep their distance or risk being burned. 

 

The sound of her cell door being unlocked roused her from her nearly-dreaming state. She squinted in the light as a figure stepped in. The door locked behind her. “Frieda!” came the sharp whisper. 

 

“Carol? What are you doing? What’s going on?” Frieda sat up, still groggy. 

 

“It’s okay,” she sat on the foot of Frieda’s bed. “Walter owed me a favor.”

 

“Jesus, you told the guards about us?”

 

Carol scoffed. “Of course not. Just that I needed some time to talk to you.”

 

Frieda looked annoyed. “Carol, we just talked.”

 

Carol crawled closer to Frieda, eyes alight. “I’m not here to talk, silly,” she giggled. “I’m here to finish what we started.”

 

“Oh, Carol,” sighed Frieda, but by then the girl was already on top of her and they met each other in a passionate kiss. 

 

“I keep thinking about that morning in the library,” said Carol. “Your tongue felt sooo good on my clit,” she whined. Frieda groaned at that, reaching down to palm one of Carol’s breasts. “Uh-uh,” she chirped, pulling away. “First you have to do something for me.” Frieda sighed. 

 

“What?”

 

Carol grinned. “Take your clothes off. I want to see you. All of you.”

 

“Didn’t you already get an eyeful when you were off playing peeping tom in the shower?”

“Please, Frieda? Please?” begged Carol. 

 

Frieda gave a small smile. “Fine,” she said, unceremoniously shoving Carol off and getting to her feet. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it on the bed. 

 

“Slow down!” Carol laughed. Uninterested in the idea of showing off, Frieda hastily stripped. 

 

“You’re a very visual person, aren’t you?” She turned her back to Carol, unhooking her bra and casting it aside before swiveling back to face her. Frieda looked majestic in the dim light, the faint orange glow playing off her gentle curves. Carol’s eyes raked hungrily over her bare breasts.

 

“I want to touch you,” she breathed, motioning Frieda to rejoin her on the bed. 

 

“Want, want, want,” teased Frieda. “All you do is want.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” giggled Carol. She batted her eyelashes in a hilariously overdone manner. “What do you want, Frieda?”

 

Frieda’s fingers tangled in Carol’s wild hair, tilting her head back and kissing her exposed neck. “I want to toy with you,” she breathed, pulling up the hem of Carol’s shirt. “Make you squirm. Make you  _ whimper _ ,” she drawled in her thick accent. Feeling heat flush to her face (and her panties), Carol yanked her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. “Make you- oh!” Frieda gasped as Carol fondled and squeezed her breasts roughly, tweaking her pale pink nipples. 

 

“We don’t have much time,” said Carol, grabbing Frieda’s hand and shoving it into her waistband. She bit her lip, a motion that would have been adorable on anyone else, as Frieda’s fingers began to manipulate her slick petals. “You know exactly how to touch me,” she squeaked, her voice raising in pitch. “I think about you all the time,” she whispered. “Oh!” Carol squealed as Frieda gave her clit a gentle pinch. She thrust her hips forward, eagerly seeking more of the delicious pressure. 

 

“You think about me, and not Burt Reynolds?” smirked Frieda, indulging Carol’s demands for “more, Frieda more!”. 

 

“Yeah?” she giggled breathlessly. 

 

“Mmm. I’m flattered.”

 

Frieda was struck by Carol’s beauty - she looked breathtaking like this, her eyes half-closed, her head tilted back, exposing her delicate neck. She reveled in the power she had - turning this feisty, commanding, warrior female into a wanton little slut, writhing and humping desperately against her stroking, rubbing hand. 

 

Carol’s moaning rose in volume as Frieda pressed into her wet, greedy entrance. “Shh! Do you wanna get caught?” 

 

“N-no,” gasped Carol, struggling to keep quiet as pleasure arced through her, Frieda’s fingers curling inside her and touching spots that made her shudder. “Oh my god!” she cried, closing her eyes tightly as the walls of her cunt fluttered around the welcome intrusions. “Fuck!” She felt the tension mounting in her belly as Frieda continued to rub and penetrate her hot core. 

 

Frieda clapped a hand over Carol’s mouth as she jerked and stiffened, muffling her cries as she climaxed. The younger girl leaned into Frieda, snuggling up against her as she rode out the last waves of bliss. “Mmm,” she whispered. “That was amazing.” 

 

Frieda startled as she felt Carol’s hand brush her inner thighs. “Not now,” she hushed, pulling away. “The guard will be back.” She tossed Carol her shirt from where she had tossed it to the floor and began pulling on her own clothes. 

 

And sure enough, just as they had composed themselves, the knock sounded on the door. Flashing Frieda one more brilliant grin, Carol bounced out of the cell.


End file.
